Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
LUKE
Ichug back my beer before grabbing another one. It’s hard not to follow Madeline when she heads back into the house. I don’t know why I fucking care. Who gives a shit if she knows I’m staring?
This girl and the things she does to my head are fucking me up. I pull out my phone and text her. I have blackmail over her, but she doesn’t care. She continues to do things to piss me off.
“Where would they go?” Grant asks.
“Who?” I take another long pull of my beer.
“You know who. Wasn’t it only a couple of days ago you didn’t want me to say her name, and now you’re asking me who?”
“Whatever.” A tray of shots comes by, and I grab two off and shoot them back. I already have a buzz.
I don’t want Grant saying her name. I don’t want anyone saying it. It’s an irrational thought, but I can blame it on the booze for tonight. I start heading up the stone stairs that wrap around the side of the house and up to the back deck where she’d been standing with Georgia.
“Trying to ditch me?” Grant jogs to catch up.
“Why are you following me?”
“I want to know where they went.”
“They?” I cock a brow at him.
“The bonfire?” Grant nods toward the east side of the home where there is a giant patch of land. Someone started a fire, and people are all minding their own business. Those legs of hers make her easy to spot. “Where’s curls?”
“Georgia?” That’s the second time he’s asked about her. “You got a thing for her?”
“What do you care?” He’s got me there. “She’s not with her.” No, Madeline is talking to a couple of girls I don’t recognize. They could have come from another school. She’s always chatty with people, but she can’t respond to a damn text.
It’s really starting to piss me off. Maybe I should send the video to her sister. It’s a dick thing to do, but maybe she’ll think I’m serious then. I’m sure her sister would be pissed. She’s a goody two-shoes.
“Luke, you’re buzzed,” Grant says as I head toward the bonfire.
Madeline sees me coming and turns away to ignore me.
She’s trying to ruffle my feathers, and she’s succeeding.
The only good thing about her not facing me is I get to take her in.
My eyes are eating up every inch of her legs and her perfectly round ass.
My mouth waters to bite it. What the actual fuck? Did I really just think that?
Lana steps into my path, blocking my perfect view. “Hey there.” I don’t respond; I just stare down at her, annoyed at the interruption. I close one eye and open it again.
“Are your lips growing?”
“What?” Lana’s face scrunches. “Why do you have to always be a dick?” She licks her lips.
“Why are you always trying to get on my dick?”
“If I wanted on your dick, Luke”—she places her hand on my chest—“then I would be.”
“Get your fucking hand off me,” I grit out.
My father always had women coming and going from the house.
There had been a few that had tried to get inappropriate with me.
I have always appeared older than I am, but they knew.
They just didn’t care. At first, they’d play up this motherly role, and then it would progress.
“Holy crap, chill.” She drops her hand. “Why are you always like this? I never did anything.” Lana’s life is all about making other people’s lives hell. I suppose we have that in common. It seems that her home life may not be as perfect as she tries to portray.
“Lana—”
“Well, I’ve never done anything to you.”
“What you could do is get me a beer.” Lana’s fat lips press together. It makes me want to itch my own.
“Fine.” She forces a smile onto her face. “Maybe that can be our truce.” I don’t know what the fuck that means, but I don’t care either as long as I get my beer.
The sound of Madeline’s laughter pulls my attention back to her. Now Grant is talking to her. Quick little opportunistic shit.
“We need to talk,” I tell Madeline. I glare at Grant to fuck off.
“Then talk.” She stares up at me, and I can see her annoyance.
“I’m not sure you want to do that in front of everyone,” I warn.
“Got your drink.” Lana shoves the beer between Madeline and me. I take it.
“We should talk later,” Madeline says dismissively.
“We’ll talk now.”
“Luke.” Lana says my name, trying to get my attention.
“Yeah, Luke, Lana is talking to you.” Madeline smirks, then the little brat plucks my beer from my hand and takes a long pull from it.
“Come,” I say, grabbing her bicep, making sure not to do it too hard.
“Seriously?” She growls at me but doesn’t fight or try to jerk from my hold.
“Stop being a brat.”
“Stop being an asshole,” she fires back.
“No.” I keep moving, heading down the hill to where there is a boathouse next to the lake.
“You do know it’s creepy to force a girl to go alone with you at night.”
I ignore her remark. She’ll be fine, and again, she’s not putting up a fight. “Why don’t you ever wear pants?”
“What?” A small laugh leaves her. It hits me mid-chest. I’ve heard her laugh before. The sound is sweet and warm. Madeline laughs with her whole body. It hits differently this time because I was the one that provoked it. I have this stupid urge to bang on my chest.
“You’re always in a skirt or shorts.”
“And you’re always in black.”
“You’re paying attention? Nice to know,” I tease her. She rolls her eyes at me. “Are you sure you don’t want me to hand that video over?”
“Fine.” Now she does jerk her arm out of my hold to fold them over her chest and stare blankly up at me. “What do you want?”
“Did you hire an Etsy witch?”
She stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. I have. “An Etsy witch?” She’s thoroughly confused.
“Never mind.” I shake my head, not needing her to think I’m crazier than she already does.
“You know I’m broke, right? I’m not hiring Etsy witches or worth blackmailing.”
“I don’t need your money.”
“Well, duh.”
“Do you need money?”
“Sure.” She holds out her hand. I reach into my back pocket and pull out my wallet. I fish out five hundreds and hand them over to her. I don’t keep a lot of cash on me. There isn’t much of a point anymore. Madeline stares at the money. “I don’t want your money.” She presses it into my chest.
“Take it.”
“No.” A small growl leaves her. “This money will come with strings.”
“You don’t want to be a sugar baby?” No sooner are the words out of my mouth than she smacks me hard. I give in and let my head move with her hand because I deserve it. The sting feels good against my skin.
“Just because I’m not one of you, that doesn’t make me a whore.” Madeline’s breathing has picked up, and I know I’ve really pissed her off. The air around us grows thicker. I don’t know how it happens.
One second she’s glaring at me, and the next I’ve got my mouth on her. Her fingers dig into the front of my shirt, and I expect her to push me away, but she doesn’t. Madeline parts her lips more and more when I thrust my tongue inside of her mouth.
The kiss is hard and intense, our teeth slightly knocking as we kiss as deeply as we can. I want to crawl inside of her. I can’t get close enough to her even though I now have her pinned to the side of the boathouse, her legs wrapped around my waist.
A crashing sound has me jerking back. Madeline sucks in a breath. The clouds have shifted, covering up part of the moon, making it harder to see her face clearly.
She leans in, putting her mouth to my ear. “You heard that?” I nod my response and slowly put her back on her feet. I’m sure another couple slipped into the boathouse to fuck. Madeline lingers, and I know she wants to peek inside.
I’m finding it hard to move. My cock throbs in my pants. It was a fight not to come. If we had kept kissing with those legs wrapped around me, I would have. This girl has a weird-ass hold on me. I need to possibly fuck her out of my system.
She starts to creep around the side, and I reach out and snag her around the waist, my hand splaying out on her soft stomach to stop her.
“Let me.” I’m not letting her little ass open the door first. Who knows what drunk ass is in there and might get pissed.
I pull out my phone so that I can flip the flashlight on if I need to and push Madeline behind me. Her hands go to my back, and she holds on to my shirt again. I should shake her off, but I’m enjoying this far more than I should.
“Oh my God,” Madeline mutters as I open the door and it makes a dramatic creaking; the hinges are rusted. “I’m a virgin, so that means you’re the one dying tonight.”
Did she just tell me no other man has been between those legs? How the fuck? Did she go to an all-girls high school before?
“See anything?” Madeline shoves my back, and I stumble a step; those shots are really hitting me now.
We’re not being quiet, so I say, “Fuck it” and turn my flashlight on. I blink, adjusting to the light. Then I see it. A dead woman.
“What?” I must tense because Madeline tries to poke her head out from behind me.
My drunk ass isn’t quick enough to stop her.
“Luke!” She backpedals a couple of steps, tripping over a bucket.
I manage to catch her before she can hit the ground.
Madeline stares up at my eyes, and her face is now ashen. “There’s a dead person?”
“Pretty sure she’s dead.” The woman is slumped over in a small boat. Blood is matted in the blond hair covering most her face, but it’s the eyes that are wide open and lifeless that let you know she’s past saving.
I pull Madeline into me, my hand going over her mouth when I hear a rustling outside. I flip off my light. Madeline presses her face into my chest. I know it’s the fear that is driving her, but for the first time in my life, I don’t have an urge to pull away. In fact, I hold her tighter.